


He wanted it to be his hands

by Grumperella



Series: The Mandalorian - Missing Scenes [7]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din's a dad and he won't admit it, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Good Parent Din Djarin, ManDadlorian, Soft Din Djarin, ahsoka tano is the best, she gets it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grumperella/pseuds/Grumperella
Summary: He wished… he wished they’d had more time. Knowing each other, like this. Ahsoka confirming that the kid had grown attached to him had made his heart clench in both elation and agony. He didn’t want to just dump the kid, didn’t want to hurt him.If only he was better qualified to care for him…But he wasn’t. Ahsoka was.___Takes place during Ep 13: The Jedi - a little expansion on the inner thoughts going on while Din holds sleepy baby Grogu.
Relationships: Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Din Djarin
Series: The Mandalorian - Missing Scenes [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2055501
Comments: 10
Kudos: 223
Collections: Genuary 2021





	He wanted it to be his hands

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone knows THAT scene in Episode 13: The Jedi. This is a little expansion on the inner thoughts going on while Din holds sleepy baby Grogu, saying his own quiet goodbye.

The Mandalorian sat with the child… Grogu... perched on his knee, cradling him in a gentle hold as the toddler slept. One tiny hand was held gently in his own, his thumb stroking over the little claws as he gazed down. 

Usually the kid was so hard to get to sleep, always curious and eager, attached to him at the hip. In the last two days since they’d met Ahsoka, however, the child had been falling into naps all on his own. Din knew using his powers wiped the kid out... and apparently Grogu had been using these same mysterious powers to “speak” to the Jedi woman since they’d found her in the forest. It had taken him a little while to untangle that his mistrust of the woman was wrapped up in some… jealousy. This whole time he hadn’t been able to communicate with his own foundling… but _she_ could. His throat tightened. The kid must be thrilled. 

Grogu. He’d only just learned the kid’s name. 

He wished… he wished they’d had more time. Knowing each other, like this. Ahsoka confirming that the kid had grown attached to him had made his heart clench in both elation and agony. He didn’t want to just dump the kid, didn’t want to hurt him. 

If only he was better qualified to care for him… but he wasn’t. Ahsoka was. 

It was the best thing for Grogu… and it was the mission he’d been given by the Armorer. By his Creed, he had to see it through. Either return the kid to his people, where he could be raised and trained properly, or raise him following The Way as a Mandalorian. If the latter wasn’t an option, then he had to do the former. 

And he’d done it: he’d found a Jedi. She was clearly skilled, powerful, and had a kindness about her that made him believe Grogu would be in good hands.

Just not his hands.  
  


_He wanted it to be his hands…  
  
_

Din scowled and shook his head at the foolish line of thinking. It didn’t matter what he wanted. It never did. His life had been a story of survival, whether it was the attack that killed his parents or the Purge that scattered his adopted people or the mercenary life that his skills leant him to. His was a life of needs, not wants. 

And yet for once… for the too short time he’d taken in this foundling, he’d felt as though his needs and wants were the same. He _needed_ to keep this child safe. He _wanted_ to. And he wanted to be more than just a protector… he wanted to care for his foundling, to raise him.

He’d grown accustomed to his presence too. The child’s interested gurgles when he saw bright colors in a marketplace, his soft snores that drifted down from the makeshift hammock at night, his gleeful shrieks when Din pulled a particularly aggressive maneuver in atmo with the Crest. The warm body that pressed into his hip as they walked across worlds together, the little clawed hand that gripped his gloved finger when he held the child in the crook of his arm. The gentle pressure against his chest when the boy sat on his lap as they flew through hyperspace, eyes wide, entranced by the trails of stars. 

When the child was sitting behind him, sometimes he’d look back as they flew to see the kid watching him, expression turning delighted when he saw the man glancing back at him. That simple delight in his presence always made Din smile, even if it was hidden beneath his helmet. 

Sure, maybe he didn’t have the most traditional relationship with this foundling. Being a completely different species, it’d been a whole lot of trial and error, from food to sleep to hygiene. In some ways the kid was far beyond a relative aged human, and in other ways he was all too helpless. Not to mention his sorcery, which manifested sporadically. Sometimes it was to steal cookies and other times to deflect real danger. He didn’t know if there were supposed to be rules for if and when he was allowed to use his powers. The one rule he had developed was that the kid was **_not_ ** allowed to heal him unless it was life threatening. He’d seen the way the kid passed out on the spot when he pushed himself; he’d never forgive himself if the kid was harmed in some way trying to help him. Luckily it had never come to that.

Otherwise, it’d been a lot of learning about each other. The kid was generally quiet, certainly not fussy like the human babies he’d met, but over time the child was either finally developing language or becoming more comfortable with Din, because the sounds grew louder, the babbling more frequent, the indicators of moods more prominent. So, he’d been talking out loud a lot more, announcing his movements and decisions, describing their next job or trip planetside. In part to get the kid used to his voice and hearing Basic, in part because he enjoyed talking to the kid. He hadn’t had anyone to just talk to in… a long time. He’d begun to hold one sided conversations with the toddler, humoring the little one as he cooed and burbled, and even started sprinkling in Mando’a, hoping the kid would absorb some of it. He didn’t expect to raise the child in the Way of the Mandalore… but his people were so few now, so scattered. Their language, their culture, their Creed... even if only bits and pieces were passed on, it was better than nothing at all.

It wasn’t all one sided either. The child had grown more emotive, more affectionate. Rather than just passively along for the ride, he began to demand things of Din. He crawled up onto the ship’s console to watch him fly, seeking attention. He reached for him more. The kid even crawled down from his sleeping hammock more often than not to curl up beside him as he slept. Sometimes the kid was annoyed, sometimes he was hungry, sometimes he was bored, sometimes he was clingy. He was starting to act less like a skittish animal and more like… well… a child. Din felt a small amount of pride at the thought that the kid felt comfortable enough with him to start opening up like that. Even his very few tantrums felt like progress.

The man’s jaw tightened, lips pressed together into a thin line.

But all that was over now. Din had found the Jedi, as he’d been tasked. This child, Grogu, as attached as they’d become, deserved a better life than he could give. Always on the run, fighting, hiding. Grogu deserved someone who understood this Force that he wielded, who could guide and teach him, who could keep him safe. Din knew it was never a sure thing with him. The life of a bounty hunter... the life of a _Mandalorian_ did not lend to stability. Hopefully this Ahsoka could give him better. The kid would forget about him eventually, just one caretaker in a long line of them, and Din… he would go back to his old life. This time, without a Covert to return to, without a people to support. Just him and the next job. 

The thought was more depressing than he really wanted to confront at that moment. If he considered the dismal, purposeless future ahead of him, he might never gather the fortitude to turn his foundling over to the Jedi.

He sighed, gingerly squeezing the small clawed hand he held between his fingertips. The little one stirred minutely, eyes squinting open groggily, taking in his caretaker before slipping closed again, wrinkled head nuzzling back against the man’s hand. 

Din’s heart ached.  
  


***  
  


Letting the child wake slowly, Din had already gathered his things into a small pouch, which he’d slung against his hip. It had made him realize with sad disappointment how few things the child owned… how few things _he’d_ provided for him. For kriffing sake, the kid’s favorite toy was a durasteel shift knob from his ship. And the mythosaur skull.  
  
He was going to keep the knob, but the mythosaur.... that was the kid’s now. Maybe he’d forget where he got it from years from now, but Din hoped, distantly, that the kid always remembered that the Mandalorian symbol meant safety… meant he was wanted. No matter how short their time had been, Grogu was his foundling… Clan Mudhorn. He had the sigil on his pauldron to prove it; a symbol he’d wear proudly until the day he could no longer wear the armor. 

Working his jaw, Din released a sigh through his nose slowly before he reached for the small form that was just starting to shift awake on the crate. Small trills sounded as wide eyes gazed up at him, trustingly. Not for the first time, Din was grateful that his face was hidden behind an emotionless visor… clearing his throat, the man reached up to fuss at the kid’s robes, tucking his collar more firmly around his little neck for warmth. He knew he was stalling… and now there wasn’t anything else to do. The kid was ready. 

He took a moment to gaze down at the small face and wide ears one last time.

“ _Ad’ika_ … Grogu… I’ll miss you, buddy.” He wanted to laugh at himself, he sounded pathetic. He needed to get this over with. Clearing the lump in his throat again, he hefted the kid up into the crook of his arm, making his voice sound stronger and calmer than he felt. “C’mon, time to say goodbye.” 

He turned and began to walk towards his ship’s ramp, each step feeling weighed with lead.

Looking out the ship’s opening, Din was surprised to see the Jedi already standing there, watching him calmly. His hackles rose. How long had she been there? 

“You’re like a father to him.” She stated suddenly, matter-of-factly. Din’s gait faltered, throat tightening. This was _really_ not what he needed right now. Resuming his cautious steps towards her, the Mandalorian adjusted the small burbling form in his grip, saying nothing.

“I cannot train him.” She pressed. Din scowled beneath the helmet. This again. Why did she insist on making this harder than it already was?

“You made me a promise,” he reminded her. “And I held up my end.”

Ahsoka met his glare calmly. After a pensive moment, she approached him, eyes glued to the small bundle in his arms. She reached out a delicate hand to hold his small claw, communing with the child for a long moment before finally speaking.

“There is one possibility. Go to the planet Tython… there you will find the ancient ruins of a Jedi temple that has a strong connection to the Force. Place Grogu on the seeing stone at the top of the mountain.” 

Wh- a seeing stone? What was that supposed to mean?

“Then what?” 

Ahsoka smiled, as though she knew something he didn’t. He didn’t like it.

“Then Grogu may choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there's a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” Ahsoka's serene presence faltered, a dark, sad look taking its place for a brief moment. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Din didn't understand the significance of that statement, but he knew loss when he heard it. Something had happened, something Grogu had lived through, Ahsoka too... and now Jedi were rare. He didn't probe, he knew better. His mind was already whirring towards his next step in any case. 

Another planet, another mission, delaying the inevitable. _This was torture._ Din was seething but said nothing for a long moment. If this togruta wouldn’t train the kid, he couldn’t force her - and he certainly wouldn’t leave Grogu with someone who didn’t want him - but this was _supposed to be it_. He’d done what was asked of him. He’d made his peace, said his goodbye, and _now_ he was off to another planet of unknowns to do it all again. Chest aching, he spared a glance down at the kid in his arm, his other hand clenching into a trembling fist. 

He didn’t know if he’d be able to do it again.

Gritting his teeth, Din evened his breathing and stilled his body. His inner turmoil wasn’t Ahsoka’s fault. If she wouldn’t train him, that was it, they’d move on until he found someone who could. All things considered, he was still grateful to the Jedi woman. He knew the kid’s name now. He knew a little more about Grogu’s life... and that he thought of him as a father.

“Thank you.” Was all he finally said, and turned to head back into the ship. To head to Tython.

“May the Force be with you.” Ahsoka said to his retreating back. 

He didn’t see the smile on her face as Grogu, held securely against the Mandalorian's shoulder with both arms wrapped around him now, whispered _warmth_ , _safety_ , _relief_ , _thankyouthankyouthankyou_ across the Force into her mind. 

The Crest’s ramp closed and Ahsoka watched them leave, the knowing smile still pulling at her lips.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Mando'a translations:**  
>  ad'ika - son/daughter/child, little one


End file.
